


How To Save a Life

by bluedragoninamber



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace
Genre: AU-check AN's for specifics, Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Force Bond (Star Wars), GFY, M/M, swraretreats2016
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-17
Updated: 2016-12-17
Packaged: 2018-09-09 03:36:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8874220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluedragoninamber/pseuds/bluedragoninamber
Summary: Dooku is balanced on the edge of Darkness.  The death of Qui-Gon sends him back to the Temple he left behind, lost and grieving.  Sifo's visions have brought him to that same edge.  Can the love that Dooku and Sifo feel for each other keep them from Falling...and the galaxy from tipping the first domino on the path to its own horrific destruction at the hands of the Sith?





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PunsBulletsAndPointyThings](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PunsBulletsAndPointyThings/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Rain Waking](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7976686) by [PunsBulletsAndPointyThings](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PunsBulletsAndPointyThings/pseuds/PunsBulletsAndPointyThings). 



** Disclaimer ** **: I don’t own it, and I am making no money off of it.**

 ** AN ** **: This is a treat for PunsBulletsAndPointyThings. I used the pairing of Dooku/Sifo-Dyas and the prompt of Dooku going to Sifo after Qui-Gon’s death and Sifo keeps him from Falling. This story is AU. I’ve added some to canon regarding Sifo’s visions. I am establishing that Dooku has not yet Fallen though he is very close to it. Sidious has been working to bring Dooku to the Dark Side. Also, Sifo-Dyas has not yet ordered the clone army. Warning for a lemon though it is not explicit.**

            Dooku hadn’t known quite what had compelled him to go to the Temple. It wasn’t as if he couldn’t grieve Qui-Gon on Serenno, after all. And grieving was what it was. He was no Jedi anymore, bound to deny his emotions or release them to the Force. Qui-Gon deserved his grief, deserved the tears he cried as he stood alone, watching his padawan’s pyre burn. Perhaps that was why he had come…to give Qui-Gon his grief, the only thing he could give, in the only place that his padawan had ever thought of as home.

            Or perhaps it was the boy…no, the man…holding a small blond child who clung to him in a way that no Temple-raised child would dream of. Dooku had managed an awkward encounter with his grandpadawan, a quiet exchange of pleasantries that left Obi-Wan with a pocket-sized data pad that contained Dooku’s contact information as well as access codes for a small bank account, enough to get Obi-Wan and Anakin to Serenno if necessary. Obi-Wan still seemed to be in shock, little better than the dazed boy he held, but he had nodded with grim understanding when Dooku suggested that the Council would likely forbid Anakin to be trained. That Obi-Wan had not simply abandoned the boy after his master’s death told Dooku all he needed to know about just how similar Obi-Wan was to Qui-Gon in all the ways it counted. Obi-Wan fumbled through his words of thanks, too grief-stricken to be elegant, and Dooku lay a comforting hand on his arm.

            “It’s what Qui-Gon would have wanted. And I will not allow my line to be cast adrift by a short-sighted Council,” Dooku said. He had been sure in that moment that he’d felt a breeze where there should have been none…a breeze that brought with it the smell of living things quite unlike the stale air that surrounded the smoldering remains of the pyre.

            Fresh tears blinded his eyes for a moment, and Obi-Wan, smelling the breeze himself, let the ghost of a smile touch his lips. It seemed that Qui-Gon approved.

            After Obi-Wan left with Anakin for the Council meeting, Dooku found himself wandering aimlessly around the Temple. Soon enough, he found himself at the door of Master Sifo-Dyas, the man who had once been his best friend, his mission partner….and his lover. The last time he’d seen him had been the night before he’d left the Order. He’d begged Sifo to leave with him, to leave the Order for him. Sifo had refused. It was a refusal that Dooku had never gotten over.

            Sifo did not seem at all surprised to see Dooku standing before him. “I knew you would come tonight,” Sifo said. His face was weary and drawn, and his eyes were as bloodshot from crying as Dooku’s own.

            “I couldn’t stay away, not from this,” he admitted, just barely resisting the urge to reach for Sifo. Only in that moment did he realize what had left him so perilously close to Falling. It was loneliness. Above all other things, it was loneliness. Finally, he did reach out, and Sifo did not flinch away when Dooku rested his hand lightly on his bearded cheek.

            “I saw you coming. You had to be here. For him.” Sifo sighed, a tear slipping unnoticed down his cheek. “For a time, you and I both raised him.” He choked on a sob but recovered himself. “I loved him too, Yan.” He swallowed audibly. “I hope you meant what you said to Obi-Wan because the Council will not decide in their favor.”

            Dooku sighed. “You’ve seen it, haven’t you?”

            Sifo’s eyes were haunted. “Just believe me in this much. Those boys must be protected.”

            Dooku caught his breath. “How much have you seen, Sifo? Your visions didn’t used to be so frequent.”

            Sifo’s chuckle was mirthless. “You left me, Yan! You’ve been my balance for my visions since we were crechemates together. When you left, I could no longer find my balance. Rarely do I have a day without visions now, sometimes two or three in a day.”

            For a moment, there was silence. Finally, Dooku simply said, “I’m sorry.”

            More silence followed. Dooku had cherished the hope that he might yet draw Sifo to his side again, but it looked as though it was not to be. Biting back his tears, Dooku turned to go. Suddenly, he heard Sifo’s voice behind him. He turned back.

            “The night before you left the Order, you asked me a question. My answer was no,” Sifo said softly, not looking at Dooku.

            The count went very still. “I remember that moment well. I was…disappointed…by your answer.”

            Sifo sighed, reaching down to unclip the lightsaber from his belt. He held it out to his former lover.

            “If that offer is still open, I will go before the High Council tomorrow, and I will give them this.” He finally met Dooku’s dark eyes. “I will resign from the Order and go back to Serenno with you.”

            Dooku’s eyes went wide, and he couldn’t restrain a gasp. “You would leave the Order for me?” He swore, using language that Sifo couldn’t remember ever hearing from him. “You wouldn’t before. What has changed?”

            Sifo shifted uneasily. “Do you really think that you are the only one balanced on the edge of the Dark Side? You are not the only one who has been tempted to take rash actions! You remember my visions! You know what they do to me! What I have been seeing lately”…he trailed off, balling his free hand into a fist against his thigh.

            Gently, with the ease of many year’s practice, Dooku reached out and took the fist in his hand, exerting a tiny tendril of Force energy to relax Sifo’s tight muscles. When the fist opened, Dooku clasped the limp fingers in his own. After a moment, Sifo’s hand twined with his of its own accord.

            “What have you seen?” Dooku asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

            A shudder ran through Sifo. “The images are a monstrous disjointed nightmare. The wholesale destruction of the Jedi Order…the Dark Side swallowing our world whole”…he blanched…”Anakin Skywalker Falling to the Dark Side”…”the slaughter of even the youngest of our children by Skywalker”…he swallowed audibly and took a breath…”my death by your hand…and your death…and you die a Sith lord at Skywalker’s hand!”

            Sifo staggered, the remembered emotions overwhelming him. In a moment, Dooku was by his side, supporting the Jedi, bracing him with an arm around his waist in an achingly familiar gesture. Sifo slumped against him, and Dooku wrapped his other arm around him, pulling him into an embrace. For several moments, they stayed like that, the count wrapping both of them in the warm comfort of the Force even as he wrapped them in the elegant folds of his cloak.

            “It starts with us, doesn’t it? Or at least, it hinges on us. Master Windu would call them shatterpoints, but whatever the case, our actions are somehow the linchpins that set these events in motion, aren’t they?” Dooku asked.

            Sifo nodded, letting the count draw his head down to the black clad shoulder.

            “I am so scared,” Sifo whispered as the other man tousled Sifo’s brown hair.

            “I know,” Dooku said. “So am I. But perhaps if you and I are both gone from the Order, it will not come to pass.”

            Sifo sighed. “I don’t know. I wish…I wish I did.” He lifted his head to meet Dooku’s eyes. “All I do know is that you make me feel safe. I just…I just want to be with you, Yan.”

            Dooku caught Sifo’s head in his hands, and then they were kissing with hungry desperation, mauling mouths and twining tongues. They wrenched away from each other only long enough for Dooku to look to Sifo for consent and for Sifo to silently give it. Then hasty fingers sent clothes to the floor, Sifo’s Jedi garb landing in a jumbled heap with Dooku’s stately robes. Sifo shoved Dooku down onto the bed and began to climb into his lover’s lap, but the count stopped him with a practiced touch.

            “Shhhhh…slow down, Love, you’re going too fast. Let me prepare you.” Sifo reluctantly eased back, long enough for Dooku to summon a small jar that Sifo had kept in the same place for as long as the two of them had been lovers. With trembling fingers, Dooku stretched his partner, exerting a tiny tendril of the Force to speed the process along. He knew well enough that Sifo cared little about pain when he was overcome by passion, and Dooku had no desire for their first joining after their reunion to come with pain.

            And then Sifo was climbing into his lap again and Dooku allowed it, steadying him with his hands on his waist. Their lips met as Sifo sank down on him, whimpering into Dooku’s mouth as Dooku groaned.

            They were a perfect fit. They always had been. Older and greyer than before, but their bodies remembered. Their hearts remembered.

            The Force remembered.

            Afterward, they lay twined together, idly stroking each other’s bare skin. Their Force bond, dormant for too long, was strong and lively, and Dooku set to channeling his own healing energy into the broken, hurting places of Sifo’s mind. In his turn, Dooku found himself bathed by Sifo’s love for him. He drank it in greedily, holding his lover close, feeling the tears begin to stream down his face again as the black loneliness that had gripped him for so long finally began to lift.

            _Don’t cry, Yan._ _We’re together now._ The words came across their bond, and Dooku pressed his lips to Sifo’s forehead.

            _Yes, we are. Everything is going to be alright._ As Sifo drifted off to sleep in his arms, Dooku smiled, tucking Sifo’s head under his chin.

            _It will be alright,_ Dooku thought. _We are together now, and I won’t let it be any other way._

            There were no visions and no dreams that night…only the warm comfort of the Force. And somewhere, there was a furious Sith lord…watching as his plans crumbled into dust.


End file.
